


Forever

by NotEvenCloseToStraight



Series: Playlist [16]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Claiming, Cos Its a Mood, Demon Obadiah Stane, Dramatic and Spooky, FrostIron - Freeform, Loki saves Tony, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Pre Iron Man 1, Strangers to Lovers, True Mates, Vampire Bites, Vampire Loki, Vampires, but not really cos vampires, tw: attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28802049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenCloseToStraight/pseuds/NotEvenCloseToStraight
Summary: "--There was a quiet cry as Anthony bit through his lip and for a split second the perfect mouth stained crimson.Only a split second. Only a dot of red here and gone but it was enough.There was blood, and Loki’s head snapped back, their mouth open in a wordless pant as the unfiltered scent of their conquest filled their nose and made their throat immediately raw with the need to drink and know that scent intimately on their tongue.'Mine.' The thought came unbidden, quiet and whispering in the vampire’s psyche. Loki’s iron clad self control only allowed them the smallest shudder, but they might as well have torn the stars from the sky and screamed their intent to have the human for all it wrecked them.Every vampire and haunted thing stalking the college campus turned tail and fled when Loki’s magic sparked invisible and scorching as they laid a spell of protection over Anthony’s head.‘Your life is your own, but your forever is mine.’ they thought, and on the bench Anthony shivered against a gust of icy wind, the breeze brushing like cold fingers against his cheek. ‘And I will be back for you soon.’
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Playlist [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1462534
Comments: 9
Kudos: 241





	Forever

_I love **[THIS SONG](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9Vt7y4kPxs)** even if I am 100% against the fuckery that is 50 Shades of Gray_

_**Note** : This includes typical vampire-y notes of unhealthy possessiveness, a there and gone depression and mention of attempted su*cide, but then that happily ever after we all live for_

*********

The first time Loki Laufeyson saw Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark bleed, the vampire’s long still heart gave a quick, stuttered beat in their chest.

It was outside the library. Late night, nearly abandoned campus, no one braving the cold save Loki lurking in the shadows and Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark sat alone beneath a solitary light at the college bus stop.

He was reading some thick tome, Latin scrawled across the cover and Loki knew the book well, they would daresay they were present when the words were penned by some wishful, obstinate human soul that had demanded a place in history by account of the way they wrote fiction.

Foolish, humans were so _foolish_ but this human was so _beautiful_ and Loki cloaked themselves in dusk and moved closer and then closer still to the bus stop until they was hovering just out of reach of the mortals peripherals, looming, brooding, not so much as _breathing_ lest they disturb the student, this Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark who was far too beautiful for his own good.

He was reading, messy hair flopping into his eyes and thick glasses perched on his nose and he was young, by the gods he was _young_. Loki had seen half a millenia and nearly half a millenia again by now and they were ancient even by vampiric standards but this human could only be a score and no more, two decades and perhaps a day, not old enough to have seen the eclipse again for it only came around on quarter centuries and Loki would have known, they _would_ have known, if this soul had existed the last time the sun turned dark and they and their kind were free to unleash horror for an entire solar cycle.

No this one, this Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark as was scrawled so messily along a shabby backpack at his feet, _this one_ was young and he smelled pure, and Loki’s jade eyes ringed with scarlet as they thought about the sweetness of untouched fruit, the endless delicacy of one that had never known the sting of teeth or the crying pleasure of a lover.

 _Tony_ the book said on the inside cover and Loki’s nose wrinkled because a beauty like this demanded a real name, something whole and royal, not shortened and cut to pieces to be called laughingly across a field or teased for a practical joke. Not Tony. Not Tony but _Anthony_ , the name of a prince, of a King, meant to be breathed in the silent hours before dawn and murmured against blood stained kisses and whispered fondly so fondly through a smile.

 _Anthony_.

 _Anthony_ was reading, thick hair fluffed to hilarious heights and glasses slipping down his nose because he sat hunched over devouring the words on the pages instead of sitting straight and keeping an eye out for the near-midnight bus to come and pick him up. He was young but there were crinkles at the corners of his eyes that spoke of stress, and a downward pull to his mouth that spoke of frequent sadness, and he was chewing at his bottom lip, worrying the chapped skin as if he were anxious and Loki hated that--

\--and then there was _blood_.

 _Blood_ and a quiet, annoyed cry as Anthony bit right through his lip and cut it against his teeth and for a split second the perfect mouth stained crimson before he swept his tongue out to lick it away.

Only a split second. Only the most innocent of actions and the most accidental injury. Only a dot of red here and gone but it was _enough_.

There was _blood_ , and Loki’s head snapped back, their mouth fell open in a wordless pant as the unfiltered scent of their conquest filled their nose and mind and made their throat immediately _raw_ with the need to drink and take and _know_ that scent most intimately on their tongue.

 _Mine_. The thought came unbidden, quiet and whispering in the vampire’s psyche. _Mine_. The claim came forceful, loud and clanging about in their undead heart as it beat once, twice in response to Anthony. Loki’s iron clad self control only allowed them the smallest shudder, but they might as well have torn the stars from the sky and _screamed_ their intent to have the human for all it wrecked them. 

It was only the smallest shudder, but every vampire and haunted thing stalking the college campus turned away and slunk home to their own dens. Every creature within a hundred miles turned tail and fled when Loki’s power flexed and their magic sparked invisible and scorching as they laid a spell of protection over Anthony’s head.

‘ _Your life is your own, but your forever is mine_.’ they thought, and on the bench Anthony shivered against a gust of icy wind, the breeze brushing like cold fingers against his cheek. ‘ _And I will be back for you soon_.’

 _Soon_.

*************

_Ten Years Later_

Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark was a marked man.

Not necessarily cursed, because how could someone be cursed when he had actual billions behind his name? When his smile was so charming even the Queen blushed as she knighted him for acts of charity and working to end world hunger? When there had not been a single day in the last decade where he had been sick or hurt or even inconvenienced in the slightest?

No, Tony wasn’t cursed. 

If anything he was extraordinarily _lucky_ in all things business and education, in his health and wealth, in his hobbies and newly acquired interests. There was never a business deal that went wrong, never a venture that turned bad. His experiments in robots and AI garnered him the respect and awe of some of the greatest minds in the world. CEO’s clamored to work with the Stark _wunderkid,_ when he started a scholarship fund for inner city schools his promised donation was matched and then doubled by others, when he went toe to toe with the mayor to denounce the planned re-zoning of some neighborhoods, they tried to elect him as a congressman.

Tony Stark succeeded in everything he tried, he succeeded in anything he even half-assed out of boredom, they called him _Midas_ because everything he touched turned to figurative gold in his hands as he rose in fame and prestige.

But he was marked.

There was no real way to describe it, no exact thing Tony could put his finger on and announce as fact, but there was _something_ surrounding him, an aura perhaps, a vibe, hell maybe it was voodoo that kept the general world at arm’s length.

In business he was endlessly successful. 

In his personal life, dismally tragic.

Everyone wanted to be close but not too close, everyone was nice but not too nice. It was always a yes to a first date but hardly ever a yes to a second, and _never_ a yes to a third. It was kisses that started chaste and escalated to hot and wet and _messy_ when Tony was gasping into their mouth and dragging them in tight… and then inevitably the other person would pull away with what looked like a grimace and a muttered apology that never really meant anything before they left.

At twenty and twenty one, Tony assumed he was just bad at general sexy things, and there were more moments spent practicing kissing his pillow than he wanted to admit.

At twenty four and twenty five, he thought it was because he was wildly successful but still too immature for a relationship so he spent the better part of that year on a journey of self discovery trying to better himself, trying to improve his outlook on life and meditating to clear any toxic habits or self projecting issues that might be ruining his chance at a relationship before it even started.

At twenty nine and thirty Tony decided he was just doomed to be alone, so instead of throwing himself a birthday bash like he usually did, instead of planning a trip to some exotic land to try something new, instead of buying himself that classic roadster he wanted to spend year thirty restoring, he stayed alone and quiet in reflection.

And it was in a moment of self reflection and a little bit of loathing, Tony realized that he always bought his _own_ presents because he had no one close enough, no one who loved him enough to want to buy him even just something small.

So at thirty and turning thirty one, Tony sat alone in his apartment and drank straight from a bottle of scotch, propped his feet up on his desk and stared out at the city skyline as the sun set behind the tallest buildings and cast shadows all over the room.

He didn’t know why he was marked, why he’d been set aside to be hopelessly, heartbreakingly _lonely_ , but at thirty and turning thirty one, despite a decade of incredible achievements and groundbreaking accomplishments, Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark was done with it.

“The last time I was anywhere approaching happy was in college when I used to read alone at the bus stop.” Tony slurred to the empty apartment. “How’s that for a fucked up-- no good-- twist of fucking-- f-fate-- what am I doomed to be-- alone…”

“You are not doomed to be alone, Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark.” the voice came from nowhere and everywhere all at once, deep and low and almost a croon that had Tony straightening up and shivering, his grip on the bottle faltering as something moved from the shadows and into the starlight.

“Perhaps it was a mistake to put a spell of protection over you that night at the bus stop, but I confess--” a smile too fanged to be only friendly, jade eyes too bright to be only human. “--I confess I’ve rather enjoyed the frustration of those who do not deserve to touch you trying to get close only to be rebuffed by my magic.”

“What-- what--” Tony shook his head, rubbed at his eyes and tried to believe what he was seeing. “Who are you?”

“I am the reason you have been alone this past decade, and for that I am sorry.” Thin fingers topped by long nails stroked over Tony’s cheek, down his throat to tap at his pulse. The creature was otherworldly, too tall and too thin, teeth too sharp and eyes too hypnotic as they gazed down at him. “I hadn’t meant for so strong a claim to take you, nor had I imagined you would be so miserable waiting for me so I had to come to you tonight."

“Stop.” Tony jerked back from the touch, stumbled out of his chair trying to get away. “Stop you’re talking crazy. What do you mean _claim_? Who are you?”

“I am Loki.” they said gravely, lowly. “Odinson, cast off by Laufey. Creature of the night, spectre of mischief and bringer of chaos and tricks. And you, Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark. _You_ are the one I’ve waited half a millenia and half a millenia again to know as my own.”

“How--how-- _what_?!”

“Come here and I will show you.” Loki moved impossibly fast, one minute hovering by the windows and the next close too close to Tony, closer than anyone had ever been and Tony’s mind went blank with it, his body _buzzed_ with it, he was suddenly drunk with it, with the intoxicating nearness after so long alone.

“Oh my love.” Loki knew, they _knew_ how the endless loneliness stung, they knew how the distance burned and the wondering if one was flawed and damaged and doomed ate at their soul. They _knew_ and their next touch was reverential, celestial as they drew the patterns of the constellations on Anthony’s collarbone before leaning close enough for their foreheads to touch, for their noses to bump and mouths to nearly meet so they could whisper, “Let me show you.”

Tony closed his eyes and he could see.

He could see _himself_.

There he was just last year accepting another award alone up on the stage in front of three thousand adoring people. He’d been so sad as he held the award and smiled for the camera because he had no one to share the moment with but now he could see there in the background was Loki, smiling and applauding and so very _proud_ of Tony in that moment.

There he was the summer previous out at the beach, tanned and gorgeous and there was an actual visible circle of emptiness around him where no one ventured. Tony would have loved for one of the other beautiful people to come and join him in his cabana, but no one had so much as looked his way. And now he could see Loki watching with scarlet tinged eyes and licking over their fangs as they admired his body.

_Not alone._

There he was after another only lack luster date, frustrated and wondering and Loki was watching with a half sad, half smug expression, the word _mine_ hanging on their lips even as they whispered a quiet apology for Tony being so sad.

There he was at twenty five on his journey of self discovery, hiking a mountain trail when someone had shouted that rocks were falling, they were _falling_ and Tony was in _danger_ and the Loki had swept in and magicked the rocks clear away, no not magicked, the vampire had moved faster than sight and simply _took_ the rocks away and Tony remembered how he’d looked around curiously and never seen anything at all so he’d just gone on his way.

 _Loki_ at his acceptance for a Nobel Peace Prize. _Loki_ sneering at the Queen when she knighted him, but blowing kisses at Tony when he stood as Sir Carbonell Stark. _Loki_ at his college graduation when Tony had stood as valedictorian and spoke about how he wished his parents could be there to see it.

 _Loki_ that night at the bus stop with scarlet eyes and an audible growl as Tony bit through his lip and cursed softly at the pain. _Loki_ wrapping a visible, glittery protection spell around Tony’s body and whispering ‘soon’. _Loki_ watching in satisfaction as the sort of supernatural creatures Tony hadn't known could exist turned and slunk away and swore never to bring their hexes and bad luck to Tony’s doorstep.

Loki. _Always_.

“I want your forever.” the vampire purred into his ear and Tony came back to himself with a gasp, with a start, with a decade more of _knowing_ that turned his body cold and made his heart _skip skip skip_ in fearful anticipation. “But I knew it was too soon when we met that night at the bus stop. And it is still too soon now, you deserve a full life before I take you but I could not watch another moment while you are lonely, my love. You are never alone, you are never solitary, I am here always.”

Cold fingers at his throat, cold lips at his temple, just a hint of fangs and terrible dangerous things at his pulse.

“The first time I saw you bleed, my heart actually beat within my chest.” they murmured. “For the first time in countless centuries, my heart actually beat and it was for the sight of _you_ , darling. I will wait to have your forever but know you are not alone. Never.”

**************

_Ten Years Later_

It was only a _blink_ when Loki looked away from their intended mate. Only a _blink_ as the solar cycles shifted and they and their kind were driven below when the surface became hotter and record temperatures blasted the city streets and seared their fragile skin.

It was only a blink, only a quick necessary sleep because the sun drained them, but when Loki reappeared and came searching for Anthony, it had been almost three years and everything had changed because three years was a _blink_ for a vampire but for a human it was enough to change the world, to change a heart, to destroy them.

The man was Obadiah, someone dark and oily who stank of Hel, a demon thinly wrapped in human skin and Loki’s protection spell had always kept him from getting close enough to hurt Tony but when Loki slept for just a blink, just a _blink_ , Obadiah had seized his chance to try and take what had always been denied him.

It was Afghanistan and three months of torture that Loki found out about as they emptied the mind of the guard stationed at Tony’s home. It was crude heart surgery and near death, a mechanical man and an escape into the blistering desert where Loki would not have been able to help even if they hadn’t been sleeping. It was a search for revenge that twisted Tony’s pure scent angry, then mellowed out to responsibility and a sense of purpose.

It was _Obadiah_ , a demon barely able to hold his human form bent over Tony-- Loki’s Anthony-- on the couch in the magnificent home their love had built by the sea. It was Obadiah letting his fangs show and the _spoil_ seep from beneath his skin as he reached to tear Tony’s heart from his chest.

And it was Loki who moved faster than light itself, faster than the approaching night and infinitely more dangerous as they grasped the demon round the neck and wrenched him away.

It was Loki who cut their fangs into the demon’s throat and spilled black blood onto the floor, spitting and gagging because it was rank, it was _rotten_ , Obadiah was rotten to his very core and Loki spat it out lest it stain their clothes, their skin, their lack of a soul.

And Tony watched with near dead eyes as the spectre that had been a constant presence in his life but had only shown themselves _once_ came from the shadows after three years absent and tore apart the demon with their bare hands.

“My love.” Loki hovered over Tony anxiously, hands shaking and eyes shifting between jade and scarlet as they tried to _understand_. “What-- what happened? I only slept. I only slept and so much has gone wrong. What can I do to fix this? How do I heal you?”

“H--help me.” Tony rasped and he tasted blood on his tongue, on his lips. He tasted weariness and soul deep loneliness and he tasted the _forever_ that had become his new life. Revenge and the arc reactor. The memories of Afghanistan that kept him awake at night and the way Pepper and Rhodey were always close but not close enough, the way their affection was shielded because Loki deemed it to be. Endless aches and unrelenting pain. He was forty and at thirty he’d learned about the silent protector at his side because at twenty some entity had decided he was theirs _always_ and it was _lonely._

“Take my forever.” he murmured, he muttered, he gasped with what was left of the few breaths in his body because the reactor was lying on the floor damaged and the other was so far away in the basement and he was _dying_. “Take my forever.”

“You are not done living.” Loki’s eyes burned, they burned in unholy rage and nearly angelic affection all at the same time. “You are not done, my love but I do not know how to heal you. This piece, the glowing-- do I need to reattach it? Do I need to-- by the gods, I only slept and my protection spell failed you, I am so sorry--”

“I’m done.” Tony coughed and it was bright red, and Loki’s traitorous greedy heart beat once, twice within in his chest at the scent of blood. “I’m done living. You said you wanted my forever, now take it.”

“You are _not_ done.”

“Take it.” Tony managed the strength to stumble to his feet, pushed away from grasping fingers that had only touched him the one time, just the once when he was thirty and lonely and desperate. He pushed away from Loki’s reach and let himself fall through the glass doors of the balcony, let the momentum carry him to the very edge.

“Anthony, stop!” The command lashed through the air and it would have stopped a lesser mortal in their tracks, _should_ have stopped Tony where he stood, and Loki breathed a frustrated cry when the human ignored the compulsion and leaned far over the edge to stare down at the dark waves.

“Twenty years.” Tony coughed again, wiped the blood onto his pants. “Twenty years you’ve watched over me. Kept everyone away from me even though I was lonely. You kept me for yourself but you never _wanted_ me for yourself, you say it was too soon--”

“It’s soo soon, darling you have not yet lived a full life.”

“But it is _my_ life.” Anthony was _beautiful_ like this, he was beautiful as he stood stubborn and obstinate and perfect despite his injury, despite the fatigue writ across his gorgeous face, despite the anger in his voice. “It’s my life and I’ve lived it enough. If you want my forever come and take it, and if you don’t--”

A shrug, a sigh of resignation and in that instant Loki hated themselves for not seeing how their protection had isolated their love, how their claim had led to a life Anthony considered empty.

“--if you don’t, I’ll take my forever for myself.”

It was a moment, it was a second, it was forever in the balance when Tony let himself fall, let himself go, finally made a decision in his life that wasn’t overseen by the presence of the vampire who had decided Tony was _theirs_.

So he let himself fall, took his forever as his own and closed his eyes on a life of loneliness and emptiness and the last several years of pain.

Tony took his forever as his own but when he never hit the rocks, when his body didn’t crack and break and splinter to pieces, when the shock of cold water never stole his breath, he knew his vampire had saved him.

“...you saved me.” Tony opened his eyes and Loki was holding him, their green eyes wide and scared, their undead heart pounding beneath his hand where it rested on their chest. “I knew you would.”

“Your life is your own.” Loki’s voice cracked, their breath hitched in fear. “Your life is your own and I am sorry for wrapping you so alone in my protection. I am sorry you have never felt fulfilled. I would turn time and give you back twenty years without me to never bring you to this moment where you’d rather die than continue living on. I am sorry, my love. Your life is your own, I will leave you, I’ll leave you but please-- _please_ \-- do not try so foolish a thing again. It would end me if I lose you and perhaps I am selfish--”

“How old are you?” Tony interrupted and Loki hesitated, “...at least a millenia and half a millenia again. I’m not entirely sure.”

“Why me?” Tony was hurting, he was _hurting_ and Loki trembled as fear and death turned their love’s scent dark blue and then almost black. “Why--” the hole in Tony’s chest was obscene, it was hideous and Loki had seen so many years and magic akin to miracles but they did not know how to fix this, they didn’t know how to _fix it_. “Why me?”

“Because I am a creature of tightly bridled desires and infinitely controlled lust but the first time I saw you bleed, my heart beat for the first time in centuries.” Loki had told Tony this before, they had said it before but they said it again. “You stirred me in a way no one had stirred me previous and never has since. I wanted your forever the moment I saw you there beneath the stars that night, and I want your forever now.”

“But your life--” Loki lay a cool palm over the gaping empty of Tony’s heart, whispered a curse of numbing and cooling and forgetfulness so their mate’s last breath would be painless. “--your life is your own and I will grant you your forever if you tell me to. If you command me to. If you are truly done, I will leave you to end in peace.”

“I’m done with my life.” Tony’s head lolled back as the spell wound through his veins and eased his pain. “But you-- you--”

“My love?” Loki whispered, their very core clenching in agony as they felt his life force draining away.

“Take it--” Tony whispered. “Take my forever. It’s-- it’s yours. If you w-want it-- it’s yours.”

***************

_Ten years later._

_A hundred years later._

_A century and a half century and a dozen decades later._

Every time Loki saw Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark bleed, their heart beat as if it were the first time all over again.

Tony was beautiful as he lounged on their bed reading some heavy book in a language the humans called dead, forgotten, ancient. He was beautiful as he pushed thick hair off his forehead and pushed a pair of only decorative glasses up his nose because the novelty of them made him laugh.

He was _perfect_ lying nude on jade sheets, bite marks still healing scarlet on his skin, the scars left from the demon Obadiah the only thing that marred the image but Loki had painted Anthony at least a hundred times in their life together and they would swear on the gates of Valhalla and the valleys of Hel themselves that each and every scar only made their love more flawless.

Tony was far too beautiful for his own good, clever and almost terrifyingly smart, endlessly funny and the reason Loki never slept, why they never wavered and never blinked because they never wanted to miss anything about their love even as they wandered together on into the years.

Loki shifted at the door and Tony looked up with a smile that turned sharp, with dark eyes that filtered scarlet with immediate desire and a shift of his hips that sent the sheet sliding silk to the floor to bare him to his vampire’s gaze.

“Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark.” Loki moved faster than light, faster than the sweep of night as they covered their love with their body and pressed him into the bed. Twenty years they spent apart with Loki hovering at the edges, and even with so much time together every kiss was desperate and aching and hungry.

“Anthony Edward Carbonell Stark.” they whispered as Tony’s fangs cut into their neck and their body surged in response. “Love is not a strong enough word for what infinity has gifted us with.”

“...you will always have my forever.”


End file.
